Lost Boy
by BlackCurrants
Summary: Post DH, Harry Potter, through the use of dark magic, travels back to 1932 with the sole purpose of killing Tom Riddle. His plan quickly changes and he ends up adopting the future Dark Lord, hoping to change him for the greater good. Warning:Incest/Slash
1. Chapter 1

**Note: Revised 8/16/10**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. Oh hells, I wish I did.

**A/N:** My first fanfic on this account, and probably ever. I'm quite a picky person and in this weird paranoid way I sometimes do these long revisions. You'll probably see revisions but I'll note it on the bottom if I had. I'll try to update regularly and I hope to finish this story, for once.

**Pairing:** Harry Potter/ Tom Riddle

**Summary:** Post DH, Harry Potter, through the use of dark magic, travels back to 1932 with the sole purpose of killing Tom Riddle. His plan quickly changes and he ends up adopting the future Dark Lord, hoping to change him for the greater good.

**Warning:** incest TR/HP, slash, straight, sexual content, time travel, language, awesomeness, violence, smut, and boy on boy action. I think this plot has been rarely used. Yes it has been done, but… I mean compared to all the marriage law FFs I've read I've only seen two or three FFs of this plot ever remade. If you guys know any FFs that have similar plots like this, message me and let me know. Other than that, I like to think that I made this very original. Enjoy!

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It was the final day that would decide the fate of the Wizarding World as they knew it.

Around them, the forest was burning up in flames, along with the owlery, taking the animals within it to their graves. Swarming darkness popped up around the outer perimeters of the castle, near the forbidden forest. The darkness molded itself into figures of bodies, before finally revealing the Death Eaters. Like foot soldiers, they had matching evil smirks on their faces as they marched up to the stone bridge connecting Hogwarts to the forbidden forest. They were horrible and confident, aware that they were only inches away from an easy victory.

Bellatrix Lestrange and her legion came from the west end of the forest, while Barty Crouch Jr. and his pack came from the east end, fully surrounding the castle in an army of shadows and darkness. After their first line of Death Eaters came in, more popped up out of nowhere in the back and formed another row in an orderly manner, wand at the ready- waiting for instructions from their superiors. Familiar faces were seen in the ranks; Malfoy, Dolohov, Pettigrew, Yaxley, Greyback, and others not so familiar. Werewolves, provided by Greyback, scoured around the Death Eaters, barking wildly while only being restrained by whips and leashes.

One Harry Potter gazed down at the battlefield from his high place in the Headmaster's tower. He felt cowardly and ashamed; he should be there with them! He should be the one leading the battle against Voldemort! He spared a quick guilty glance at the Order's army, lined up at the entrance of Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione were lined at the front, wands at the ready, with Kingsley Shacklebot and Alastor Moody siding both of them. Behind them were a mixture of Aurors, Order members, and volunteers who would probably never survive the battle.

On the front lines, Ron's fists shook out of fear as he watched the black parade march closer and closer towards them, only about a hundred meters away. Feeling soft fingers tread gently on the back of his shaking palm, he stopped his twitching. He gazed upwards and saw Hermione -his angel, his life- smiling one of those smiles that always told him everything was going to be okay. He believed her, always did and always will. He squeezed back and affectionately brought her hand to his lips for a kiss, before quietly whispering, "I love you, Hermione Jean Granger."

She caressed his cheek with the hand that he kissed and replied, "I love you, Ronald Bilius Weasley." It was a sacred moment for both of the barely young adults, their first confession to each other ever. Of course, they had realized their feelings, but it was only at recent. They had not been able to date like normal couples or develop a relationship because the war demanded their attention. They had to put feelings aside and help Harry find the Horcruxes, but even now it was too late.

"Will you marry me?" Streams of tears had already started flowing down both lovers' cheeks. Ron did not have a ring prepared, but made do with transfiguring a lock of his red hair into a golden ring with a bright red ruby in its center, "Mum always said that the only gift worth giving is a portion of thyself." Hermione chuckled and nodded furiously, "Yes! Yes!" Ron smiled happily through his tears and reddened nose, he slipped the ring onto her finger and pulled her in for a passionate kiss. "Forever, 'Mione." He whispered lovingly.

"Forever." She replied before slipping her fingers into his and latching on, continuing to watch the advancing of darkness.

Not long after the dark army settled in front of the closed entrance, did a shadow appear in front of them. The darkness that emitted from the figure grew in itself until it became a large black orb made of swirling shadowy material. It continued growing and suddenly before anyone could guess, the shadow ball exploded and sent the stone gate flying towards the school. Fortunately, it swerved away from the army. The dark sphere quickly changed into the bony-figure of Lord Voldemort, clad in his traditional black cloak. He stepped elegantly through the entrance and his Death Eaters stood their ground, waiting for instructions. The Dark Lord sneered at the Light army and grasped his pale ivory wand.

"Look at all you fools... How you continue to resist me, knowing in the end you would all die, one by one, perishing under my Death Eater's wands. How you would all betray me for your savior, the one that sat by the side as your family members died, all because of him."

"You liar! Don't listen to him!" Hermione harshly declared.

Voldemort stared at her with an evil smirk before continuing, "You call him your savior, yet he is not even here to help you fight. But alas, as I am the most merciful and powerful Dark Lord, I shall give you a final chance. Yield your forces. Sacrifice the Boy-Who-Lived to me… and all of you will remain unharmed. Refuse my request… and I will commence the slaughter of all who dared to conceal him from me. You have one minute, make your choice now."

Harry stared at the scene; he wanted to give himself up but knew it would be for nothing. Voldemort would lie and destroy them anyways. Even if he gave himself up it would not be enough to buy Voldemort's mercy.

When nobody answered, and instead glared or sneered at the snake face, Voldemort gave a heavy sigh like a father tired of his troublesome children, before he spoke conclusively. "Kill them." And thus the trudging of heavy foots and the cries of war sounded through the hills of Hogwarts. Magic blasted at their targets in an array of colors. Yells of 'Avada Kedavra' and 'Sectumsempra' rang from dry lips. Death Eaters were mildly surprised that the Light army would take such measures as to use illegal dark spells against them. Minutes into the battle, Harry knew they wouldn't win. Already he was in agony, Moody – the greatest Auror of all time – had died, along with Tonks and her husband - his friend - Remus. Ron and Hermione were holding their own, but anybody could see that they were close to exhaustion.

Voldemort paced towards them with a wicked smirk donned on his face. He raised his wand up and mouthed the words which would finish as, 'Avada Kedavra.

Harry closed his eyes, he could not watch any further. Abruptly, a gentle hand was placed onto his shoulder. He jumped and turned to see Dumbledore smiling sadly at him, "It's time." He led him towards his private quarters, which was hidden in a wall. There were several ceremony candles lit and on the floor, carved right into the wood, was a five star pentagram, filled with a mysterious white dust that sparkled with the gleam of candlelight.

"You know what to do Harry." Harry nodded and entered the pentagram.

"Do it swiftly, and you save us all. Fail, and there might never be a second chance." Dumbledore stared heavily at him as Harry nodded once again.

"I'm ready, sir."

The old wizard offered him a sad smile and patted his shoulders. Picking up his book, he walked over towards his drawer and took out two twin knives. Both lethally sharpened to cut easily through flesh. He handed one to Harry and commenced the spell reading.

"_Chronus Lunum_." The first side of the pentagram instantly lit up, and Harry made his first cut on his wrist. Blood dripped in the middle of the pentagram, only to disappear through the floor.

"Through blood, may life be reborn." Harry hastily cut his other wrist and watched as the second side similarly lit up.

"_Ultimo Transfero_." Dumbledore stepped into the pentagram and immediately gasped in pain as the pentagram sucked the magic out of him to power itself. The third side had lit up.

"Through life, may time be reborn!" Dumbledore yelled with all his might, quickly slashing both his wrists. The blood filled the pentagram, the white dust turning a clashing crimson. Sudden crimson light circled around Dumbledore's body, clutching around him until he fell over, dead. Harry cried, he cried over his mentors death, he cried over his friends suffering, and most importantly he cried because his poor destiny as the chosen one. The pentagram lit up once again in yellow light, covering Harry's body in sparkles and glitter. It felt good… for a moment. Immediately Harry could feel a sharp pain that erupted from his stomach. It twisted and pulled at his organs and played with his bones. It felt even more horrible then the torture curse itself. He closed his eyes, feeling his nails embed themselves into his palms. Pure agony, would describe the feeling. Yet there was no blood, none at all.

A sudden bang declared Death Eater's forceful entry into the room. Harry opened his eyes and for a moment, time just stopped. Bellatrix stopped in mid-attack, the green light of an 'Avada Kedavra' bursting through the tip of her wand. Voldemort stood behind her with a ghastly expression of surprise. In a flash, Harry could feel another explosion of pain, only now it radiated through his whole body, making his head feel like it was being repeatedly slammed into a stone wall. He lost consciousness, only to awake moments later… near an orphanage.

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He watched all of them. They made him sick, disgusted; those filthy brats. Those children happily conversing with their future parents, but he wasn't allowed to be down there with the rest of them. Today was another adoption day, at Wool's orphanage, where they would open their doors and display chilled refreshments in the dining hall for parents who were looking to adopt. However, like all adoption days, Mrs. Cole would ask the caretaker Roderick to lock him up in his room as to not 'ruin' the chance for the rest of the children. It was hardly even a room. It was a somewhat large, old broom closet that was set next to the building's dusty attic. He hated his room, it was always chilly and dusty, and on particular winter days, he couldn't sleep because the deadly chill always kept him awake. Roderick, the orphanage's caretaker, was a menace that took careful consideration to punish him whenever he got the chance. Out of all of them, he especially hated the man. He hated the nasty smirk on the bastard's ugly face whenever he finally had time to torment him. He hated how the meaty arms would always jab at him as they passed each other in the halls. He especially hated how Roderick was so imaginative, pitiless, and brutal in his torture. When he was five years old, he 'accidentally' pushed a meaty boy, who was bullying him, down the stairs. It really was an accident, he didn't know what happened. That night, he was dragged from his bed and had gotten beaten by Roderick within an inch of his life. There were still scars on his back to prove it.

He would never be adopted; nobody wanted him because he was a monster. They had repeated this so many times to him that he had actually started believing it. He was a monster, a freak. He could make bad things happen to people who were mean to him. Only recently, he had set a girl's hair on fire for stealing his book, but he had no idea how it happened. It just did. Like all the other times.

He continued staring from his place on top of the stairs, convincing himself that he didn't care. He hated them, hated them all. He didn't need any of them. He watched and sneered until he got fed up. It wasn't odd for a six year old to cause a tantrum, but he was no ordinary six year old. He had pride, and as he stomped back into his bedroom, already noticing his eyes fill with tears, he willed himself not to cry. Tom shut his door and stomped towards his window. He held it all back, the need to explode and scream at the world. "Lock it away, you don't care, you're better than them." Repeating the mantra to himself, Tom gripped his fists and furrowed his eyebrows. He needed to get out of here.

Flashing his eyes at the park nearby, he watched around the area for any signs of his main tormentor. Seeing no sign of him, he reached carefully for the silver railing next to his window. The railing stretched conveniently from the high roof all the way to the gravel cement floor. This wasn't the first time he escaped. He clutched the silver railing and began climbing, using the spots of missing brick holes as leverage. Once touching solid ground, he began scampering off towards the sunny playground.

Sooner then later, a large beefy hand shot out of nowhere and gripped his right shoulder. A hand he knew all too well, with its foul meaty stench and the multiple rings on each finger that had in the past collided with his face. He only had seconds to prepare before he was yanked backwards, falling face first into the streets. His knees were harshly scabbed along with his elbows, but other than that and the oncoming shock, he was unharmed. Shaking nervously, he heard the creepy baritone voice.

"Hello little Tommy, what are you doing out here? Didn't I tell you to stay in your room, hmm? Didn't I say that if you didn't I would take you to the basement and throttle you?" Mr. Roderick drawled with a sinister curl to his lips.

Tom instinctively crawled away, trying to bring space between his tormentor and himself.

"Please…no." Fear brought about tears and as they streamed down his face without his control, all he could think of was the whips and steel rods, and Roderick's fist flying towards him. His lips stretched in a deep frown before he winced, feeling the cut that he had gotten last night on his bottom lip split once again. Slowly, the blood clotted and flowed freely down his chin. He didn't attempt to move, there were bigger problems.

"Now, now Freak. I didn't give you permission to cry." Roderick sneered at him and raised his fist over his head. Tom cried once more and turned his head, bringing his arms up to defend himself. However, nothing came. He nervously took a quick peek and saw a man who grabbed Roderick's fist while it was in mid-swing. He was dressed…weirdly, in what seemed like a black suit jacket…but it had softer cloth then the regular men's thick brocade suits. Attached to its back collar was a strange… hood that peeked awkwardly outwards whilst on his back. His pant legs were made of denim, a cloth usually used for pullovers. Around his shoulder was a leather messenger bag and donned on his feet were a pair of rather odd looking flat shoes. As Tom took a quick glimpse at his face, he couldn't help but find himself fully enthralled by the young man. He was obviously charming, with his sculpted yet at the same time soft face and his shaggy, raven black hair. But within the depths of those emerald colored eyes, he saw something that perked his interest. A wizened, aged gaze that described what words could not.

"What are you doing?" The sweet, rough, deep baritone was like music to his ears. Tom watched frozenly as a seeping fire exploded from the terrifying gaze of his protector towards his tormentor. Although still in a terrified mood, he cheerfully realized; he liked this man.

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Now I know you've seen this before, but please review. It's not for me to bother you, but for you to help me become a better writer by telling me what I need to fix, what I did wrong, and the like.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Hello my lovely readers! I would love to thank you- so much!- for your reviews! I was so surprised when I woke up and checked FF net and saw already 7 reviews for my story, thank you guys you sure made my day ! If anything else, I would like to tell you that, again, I am a very picky picky person! It takes a good four to five days for me to complete a full draft of one chapter and then another day or two to spell check, correct, and revision. It would be a lot easier if I had my own beta but alas, I am not as popular right now. And I think in the end, I wouldn't take one anyways, because every time I finish a chapter and get your lovely reviews I feel quite accomplished. Well on a short notice, I am going to take a short vacation with my parents to France to visit my relatives! This would be the first time I'm going, isn't it exciting! Well for me! XD

Also, I would love to give shout outs to a few of my very first reviewers,

'You're the beginning of a great thing'.

Potterinu: Thank you for your review! I did quite a bit of thinking… and, well truthfully, when I started this fic it would have been more about how Harry changes Tom for the better and they experience things together and the usual fluff. However, I can see where your interest is and I've decided to twist the plot a bit just for your enjoyment. There will be dark changes and I'm hoping in the end my characters may find their happy ending.

Freyame: Thank you for the review :3!

Endlessvamp: Ahaha me too! Actually your review got me thinking, it's not me that controls their future, but them, the characters. I've been struggling to write them into the path that I want them to lead but they always argue with me and go astray, it really is annoying! And then I got all paranoid and pissy so I go and get fat on gummy worms.

Angelicharp: I hope I do too!

Emeralds: Thanks for your support!

Amti: I will try! XD

The Dark Lady Voldemort666: Ahaha thank you, I hope to have your continued support in the future! And I think I'll be able to have several chapters up by the end of next month. Cross your fingers!

Yours truly, BC

Smiles and Big Fat Kisses! (or Baisers (Beezers?) in French :3)

P.S. Hahahaha you had thought I finally shut up, didn't you? Prior warning, I find my skill in writing dialogue to be terribly plain! There will 'sooo' be revisions for this chapter. I love you all! Do give me comments and feedback, if you don't like how things went, tell me how you want it. I will never, I repeat never be insulted by anything you want to change XD

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It couldn't be helped anymore. He couldn't control the sudden inflamed rush of hate that poisoned his mind. He knew, deep in his subconscious, that whatever he was about to do was wrong, but something hindered his common sense. He took no notice of it, just sneering at the fat man with unbridled rage. He was one of those men who preyed on innocent children when they couldn't defend themselves. There wasn't any guilt in his eyes, only a fear of being found out and punished. 'Their' faces suddenly popped up in his mind; Voldemort, Bellatrix, Malfoy, and one in particular stayed; Uncle Vernon. It didn't help that they had similar physical traits. The man, although bald, had that scraggly, bird's nest of a mustache under his nose and he was as fat, if not fatter, then Uncle Vernon.

Above them, the clouds swiftly moved as if controlled by an invisible force. They gathered towards the sun, which hung in the middle of the skies and momentarily blocked it. Effectively shrouding the area in a meek, hardly lit radiance, like a sudden eclipse.

Harry immediately pushed the man away from Tom, feeling his magic seep through his very pores, hissing for revenge. Sneering, he waved his hand in a casual shooing motion, sending the three hundred pound bag of meat flying into an alley, towards a pile of empty wooden crates. On landing he fainted, and in a flash Harry felt the darkness dissipate, only to leave behind a very, very faint guilt. Ignoring that, his brain was on high alert. What just happened? He hadn't had an explosion like that since the battle in the Department of Mysteries when Sirius died. At that time, his anger and hate was pressed towards Bellatrix Lestrange, the need to kill her was unfulfilled. He shook his head, forgoing it as a much needed venting of stress. Strolling towards the unconscious lump, Harry quickly threw a nonverbal 'Obliviate'. Of course, he was not jarring for more trouble later on if the man woke up and remembered his assailant.

His emerald orbs flashed quickly away from the already forgotten man towards Tom. He froze, with a hesitancy to do anything else. Saints preserve us. Harry had known, had seen Tom Riddle before in his second year as they faced off in the chamber of secrets, but as a child…he…he was beautiful. Not the beauty that would be displayed in newspapers and photographs, but instead, reflected in portraits and poems. He was frail and delicate with tiny hands and feet. The boy was clearly underfed; the bones on his knees were knobby and his elbows were protruding outwards of the skin that covered them. He reminded Harry much of himself as a child at the Dursley's. With russet colored eyes that had yet to hold any of Voldemort's malice; on the other hand, there was a deep glaze of sadness and a longing for something. Those eyes twisted something inside Harry, his resolve. Could he really pull through with this plan now? Even the bumpy feel of the dagger's hilt that was situated inside his pocket made him feel ill.

They stared at each other for a few more minutes before Harry snapped out of his trance. He stepped closer, awkwardly holding out his hand to pull the boy up, whilst millions of thoughts raced through his head at light speed. What are you going to do now? Are you going to kill an innocent boy? For god's sake, the child hardly looks a day over five!

The silence was tense. Harry gathered his balls and made quick conversation.

"What's your name kid?" He asked nonchalantly, his mouth curling upwards in a small smile. Of course he bloody well knew, but he found it too suspicious not to ask.

"It's…Tom, sir." He watched Harry carefully, like a mouse waiting for the cat to pounce. Harry was unaffected, continuing his inspection.

"Tom…? No last name?" Harry noticed the russet orbs avert downwards. He wore rags that did not even fit him. His shoes were well worn and holed up.

"They didn't give me one."

"Who?"

"The people at the orphanage." It was apparent that this wasn't the first time he was abused, the evidence coming from the large bruise on his left cheek and several trailing down his neck, not to mention his split lip. From the corner of his eyes, Harry glowered furiously at the unconscious old man; all remorse vanishing only to be replaced by seething anger. So his predictions were correct, the man was nothing but a bully. Negative emotions flourished and before he could fully comprehend what he was doing, a random hex shot out of his hands, barely missing the ogre's head by a couple of inches. He quickly pulled his hand back and stuffed them into his pockets.

"M-may I ask, how you did that, sir?" Tom inquired shakily.

"I think you know all too well how I did that. You do it too sometimes, am I right?" He replied with a knowing look on his face.

Tom suddenly went pale and took a couple of steps back, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Harry placed a cautious step towards the shaking adolescent, "At random times…particularly when you're angry or scared, something happens. A drawer suddenly bursts into flames, a cut suddenly heals itself, or something vanishes into thin air. Yes?"

Alarmed, Tom's body shook harshly and fear nestled in his eyes, "W-who are you!"

Harry had no idea how to answer. He tried to remember how easily he was taken by Hagrid explaining to him that there was a magical world, a world that a part of him belonged too. Then he remembered Dumbledore, his mentor who was always calm and comforting at times when Harry couldn't be. He tried to play them out through his words and actions.

"I'm not here to hurt you Tom. I'm like you. I can do all the things you can and more." He held his right hand up and cast a controlled 'Incendio'. The ball of flame floated lightly above his hand before he sent it straight towards a nearby dumpster. Although the fireball was small, on impact it made a huge explosion, covering everything it touched into flames. Fortunately for them, they were standing in an empty street, far enough away from the orphanage and civilians to not cause any alarm. Tom stared in amazement as the dumpster burned harshly, and then only a few moments later, the fire slowly died, as if it was doused by invisible water. He quickly flashed his eyes back at Harry; this time there was a hidden excitement underneath the fear.

"Why are you here?" The eyes narrowed cautiously.

It wouldn't do well for him not to answer the question. The boy was distrustful enough as it is. Harry settled his resolve and damned it to hell, a new plan unfolded in his mind. Perhaps, it would have even better results then killing an innocent and being done with it. Perhaps he could mold the young youth into something for the greater good.

"Before you…" Harry started out, "were born. Your mother and I had an affair against her family's wishes. After that night, we hadn't dared to see each other again." Tom instantly cocked an eyebrow, confusion plainly written on his face. It was, dare he say it, somewhat adorable. Of course at the innocent age of six, Tom had no idea what the means of procreation was.

He continued, "Now, I had not known she was pregnant. After we had parted ways, I went on an excursion deep into Cairo, Egypt with my friends and I hadn't heard from your mother for a very long time. Before she died, she had sent me a letter telling me that you were born and I was to find you here. Due to unfortunate circumstances, the telegram was somehow mixed up and lost in the mail. I only received it two days ago from an unknown owlery. This had shocked me as well but…What I'm trying to tell you is that…" Harry took in a dramatic breath before continuing, "I'm your father." The last barely came out.

And all hell broke loose.

"Y-you're my…Father!" Tom yelled, pointing his finger in a convicting way.

"Now Tom, calm down."

"Ca-calm down? Don't bloody tell me to calm down!" Tom sneered lightly; his mind was definitely not on the conversation. To Harry's slight amusement, being Tom's father might have been too much for him.

"Language young man!" Inside his head, Harry smirked proudly at himself; the role was rather easy to settle into.

"How am I supposed to believe this?" The little boy shrieked.

"You don't need to accept me now, but I hope you could in the future." A pleading gaze.

"You're a liar."

Not startled in the least, Harry's eyes narrowed in mock offense before replying, "I've been called a lot of things, but a liar has not been one of them."

"So? Why should I trust you? I don't even know who you are!"

"You'll just have to try and since we're going to be very close after today, I'm hoping it'll come easily." Harry took in a short breath before continuing, "I want you to come live with me." Harry stated bluntly. Tom instantly became slack jawed and his eyes widened to their full extent. It was humorous and reminded him fondly of his own owl, Hedwig.

"…What?"

"I'm prepared to immediately adopt you and take you home as my son, as it should be."

"Wait a min—"

"And I know you can't resist my offer. You must want out of this place as much as I want to adopt you." He saw the sway in Tom's eyes. Just a little more…

"But**...**"

"How about I make you a deal? You let me adopt you and after a week or so… if you want to come back here, I'll escort you myself."

"You…you promise?" Hook. Line. And sinker.

"On my magic." On the word 'magic, something inside Tom sparkled.

"Alright, but… tell me your name since you know mine." Harry grinned affectionately at Tom's acceptance. It was as they say, all downhill from here.

"It's Harry. Harry Potter."

**Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

As they both walked into the reception room, matrons watched eagerly, already attracted to the handsome man that practically oozed singleness. They were so hypnotized that they hadn't even noticed Tom walking next to Harry, not that they would care.

Harry gazed plainly at them, not taking any into consideration.

Tom watched in amusement from his place next to his father. The receptionist grabbed for her bag and dove underneath her desk, quickly touching up her makeup. Tom jumped up and down, ringing the desktop bell in a childish manner he refused himself for years. The receptionist promptly raised her head up and acted as if she had not seen them coming, or even heard the last dozen rings of her bell.

"Hello sir, is there anything I can help you with." She giggled falsely while undressing Harry with her eyes.

Harry rolled his eyes in indignation; women these days just had no class.

"Yes, you may. I would like to adopt him." Harry casually draped a hand over Tom's shoulder. The lady kept her grin and averted her stare away from Harry towards his pick. She immediately froze, her eyes widening in shock.

Tom stiffened and gripped his father's pant leg, afraid to let go. It was silent all of a sudden, and he could feel the other matron's eyes narrow at him from behind his father. Of course, it seemed too much like a dream to be real. Harry would definitely change his mind and abandon him for another child.

Harry gently stroked the boy's back, wordlessly telling him to stay calm.

"To-Tom? Well…" The receptionist stuttered nervously.

"Is there a problem?" Harry drawled, with a little edge in his words.

"Hello sir," The shrill, high toned voice made both of them slightly winced. Harry peered up to see a short, round woman wearing a stiff high neck dress and walking straight towards him with one of those false smiles that showed all of her yellow, grimy teeth. What was worse was that the dress was a positively ghastly color that reminded him strictly of the first time he saw Dolores Umbridge in her completely pink business suit. And if it wasn't bad enough, the dress was accompanied with a large purse and matching shoes and hosiery in the same ghastly color, "my name is Mrs. Cole, the head director of Wool's Orphanage. You must be one of the parents waiting to adopt. Please, come with me and I'll help you pick out one of the angels." She grinned at him and began turning her back, expecting him to follow her. Tom glared at the woman, as his hands instinctively tightened further into the soft fabric of his father's pant leg.

"I don't need a guide dear lady. I've already found the one I want." Harry nodded his head towards Tom, affectionately rubbing the back of his neck.

Mrs. Cole narrowed her eyes at Tom and tutted her lips, "No sir, I don't think you want this one. He's very temperamental and hard to get along with. Believe me, he'll most likely cause more trouble for you. Perhaps one of the better, well-behaved children?"

Harry narrowed his eyes in spite, "Are you trying to choose for me?"

She widened her eyes in surprise, "Of course not sir, but-."

"It sounds like you are."

"I'm just looking out for your best interest. This child is a nightmare!" She pointed her pruney, pink manicured fingers at Tom with a sneer on her face, "You'll adopt him today and have him back here by tomorrow morning! How about we go look at the other children and maybe you'll change your mind." She made a grab for his hand but Harry swiftly moved away, weaving calming circles into Tom's shaking back.

"Mrs. Cole, please refrain from touching me. And I've already made up my mind, it's Tom. I want to adopt him and none of your little ridiculous lies will sway my decision." Multiples gasps were heard, including that of Mrs. Cole. The edge that was in Harry's voice was that of mild disgust and elegant class— two that was lethal when mixed. Harry glowered at Mrs. Cole, then at the matrons who were clearly over hearing the conversation. Tom stared on proudly at his soon to be guardian who just defended his honor.

"Now you have two choices, either you give me the adoptions papers, so I could get my son and get the hell out of this horrible place. Or you may keep playing these silly antics and I swear to you that by the end of this week, not only will I get my son, I'll have this whole place on twenty four hour inspection and from the bruises I already see on his face, it won't be hard to see you thrown out of business. Choose."

The adoption papers were immediately thrown into his hands and as he signed his signatures, dainty fingers reached for his left palm. It was unexpectedly easy to cup the small hand into his. There was almost no need to force himself.

Tom gripped the warm rough palm and smiled as they began walking away from the orphanage, his guardian grinning back and patting him on the back. He couldn't remember the last time he smiled for himself. He reveled in the happiness, feeling his insides light up and the gleeful jump in his step. Harry momentarily tossed Tom onto his back. The boy was evidently weightless, not surprising and not healthy. Harry noted to himself to feed the boy as much as possible, starting with a nice afternoon lunch for both of them. They could go from there. And with a quick flick of his wrist, Harry apparated them far away from the orphanage, hoping to never come back there again.

**Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**Revised 08/17/10  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Hey guys, how are you! Oh wait, comment allez-vous? Heh, I think that's as far as my French will ever reach. Supposedly, quote quote from my cousins, I fail at the accent. So here I am in fair Paris, and yes the Eiffel tower is as big as everyone says it is. I actually held onto the railing for my life as we went all uppity up in the elevator. But aside from the near shock I got when we were actually all the way up there (The tippity top), the restaurant near it had tres magnifique food. TRES TRES MAGNIFIQUE. Oh god, I still want more. I'm coming to you live from my niece's laptop, such an adorable thing she is. Hangs around me all day. Oh well, do you guys want to know a secret? I HAVE A BETA XD. Well, not a very good one, she's being lazy today and not giving me any feedback!

Alright, I'm off duckies

Sincerely yours,

BC XXX

**Xxxxxxxxxxxxx**

About six months later…

It was early in the afternoon, at around eleven or twelve in the morning. The room was quiet and peaceful; and soundproof— to the happiness of one parent who still lay curled lazily in his bed, lightly snoring the day away. There were large dark red curtains donned on the floor-to-ceiling windows of the expansive room that fully blocked out the sunlight. No birds chirping, no annoying owls tapping repeatedly on the glass pane of his window; C'est la vie. Yes, he felt that nothing could ruin this moment. And yet; at the same time he finished that last thought, a rough pound came from the other side of the room's entrance. Harry instantly froze, dreading the supreme malignant evil that was about to befall him. The door flew swiftly open and an indignant Tom walked haughtily through, with a displeased expression on his face, like a drill sergeant not liking anything he saw.

Harry buried his face into his pillow and pretended to continue sleeping, a light scowl dropping his features.

Tom immediately strutted over towards the front of the bed, scrutinizing the lump covered in white sheets with a cocked eyebrow. He crossed his hands behind his back and pursed his lips in annoyance.

"Dad." He stated, watching for a reaction. There was none. He's trying to challenge me is he? Tom thought, strolling over to the end of the bed. He lightly flicked his fingers over his father's tickle-sensitive back heel. No reaction; Harry was putting in effort.

"Dad, wake up." Finally, he saw a soft fluff of black hair move cautiously under the sheets, trying to bury itself further under the sheets.

"I know you're awake Harry!" Tom denounced, jumping onto the covered body.

"Don't make me do this." He exclaimed with a warning, dramatically pushing his shirt sleeves up. There was no movement, but Tom could have sworn he heard a soft intake of breath somewhere under all that white. He evilly smirked to himself, giving his father a few moments to get ready.

Hearing Tom's prior warning, Harry widened his eyes and gasped. The boy was evil, evil incarnate! He dug his hands into the bed's comforter, waiting for the inevitable rude awakening.

"Remember old man, you asked for it!" Tom dug his cold fingers under the blanket, attacking all the sensitive spots on the older man's body, smugly watching as the body twitched and laughter exploded from under the blankets. Smirking, he recalled how he had found this interesting method of torture. He had discovered not too long ago that his father, being the elegant social butterfly that he is, was definitely… not a morning bird. And that did not go well with Tom at all, since he was one and always had a knack of staying on schedule. Luckily it did not take long for him to discover his father's one pure weakness; he strongly feared being tickled. So it had become a morning chore for him. Everyday, he'd wake up at eight sharp and find his body immovable, trapped by Harry's arms. He'd painstakingly work himself out of the steel wrought prison and proceed to go to the bathroom to brush his teeth. After finishing, he'd go downstairs to make breakfast, which included toasting bread and breaking out the jam. Then he'd go back upstairs to Harry's room and forcefully drag him out of bed, like he was doing now.

Tom rolled his eyes. Really, they might as well just switch roles. He felt more like the parent as each day passed.

"I-I give! Stop, I give up! Ah!" Tom flicked his eyes back down, not having listened to the pleas until now. He felt proudly satisfied, a hard day's work well done. Promptly jumping off the bed, he pulled the sheets away and uncovered Harry's body, still heaving with exhaustion. Harry was shirtless today, only wearing a pair of long pajama pants that hung lowly on his hips. He sleepily watched Tom with hooded eyes and a tired smile. Tom could feel his insides strangely tingle, also placing a grin on his face.

Harry stood up and stretched his body, yawning in the process. He extended his arms upwards which flexed out the ridges of his pale stomach. He quietly groaned at the nice feeling and finished with a quick messing of his already disheveled raven black hair, not noticing Tom's intense stare. Harry turned back to him and smirked.

"Naughty boys who disturb their father's sleep should be punished." Harry drawled teasingly, watching a red blush appear on Tom's cheeks, accompanied with his trade mark sneer.

"Father's who don't do their job should be punished too." Tom said cheekily before continuing, "And anyways, you promised you'd be up by ten today and it's already," flashing his eyes over at their grandfather clock that stood out awkwardly from the modernized room, "past eleven. Have you forgotten what today is already?" He mumbled the last, his tenor filled with sadness.

Harry's smirk faulted as he noticed and quickly pulled the boy into an embrace, "Of course not. How could I forget such a special day like this? The day when my little boy was delivered into the world is a very special day." He caressed the boys back until he could feel the tension leave his little shoulders. "Now c'mon sport, go finish your breakfast and I'll make due on my promise. We're leaving right after I see an empty plate." Tom pulled back, eyes lit in excitement before he sprinted out of the room with a giddy jump in his step. Harry shook his head in amusement, kids.

Abruptly the doors swiftly opened once again with a loud 'boom' and Tom ran at full speed, practically pouncing on Harry. The sudden weight was unexpected, making him stagger back a few steps. A chaste kiss was pressed into his left cheek and with a sweet mutter of, "Good morning Daddy!", and a quick banging noise of his French double doors being closed, he was left alone again, a pleased grin on his face. If Tom kept doing that every day, he'll have to sooner or later replace those French doors.

Walking to the loo for his normal morning routine, he quickly reminisced the last few months. It was fortunate enough that at the beginning of all this, when he had planned this assassination with Dumbledore, they had come to the conclusion that he might be forever trapped in the past. He came up with a financial solution of his own so that he could live comfortably for the rest of his life. Using a bottomless bag, he asked the Gringott's Goblins to transfer his entire fortune into it, including his valuable possessions. Since no one would be able to use it anyways seeing as he was the only Potter heir, it would be a rather pathetic waste if he left it all there.

After finding Tom and adopting him, they stayed at the Leaky Cauldron for a couple of weeks before deciding to pick a house. Both were extremely picky people. They had met with a hefty number of Wizard Realtors and considered many properties, not finding one that they both agreed with. On the brink of giving up, they had visited one last house located in a Wizarding Community in Manchester and instantly fell in… like. It was, large. Definitely a teeny bit too huge for two people, but its charm made up for its price tag. To Harry's slight disappointment, the house's exterior was a bit too tidy for his liking, but the burgundy and mahogany paint added a nice spice of homey feeling to it. There was also a nice expansion of fifteen acres worth of land for his house. It gave many opportunities for playing games like hide and seek, and racing. But Harry secretly hoped that in the future Tom would take an interest in Quidditch, and then he would have the opportunity to complete one of his dreams of building his own field right next to his house, like the one at the burrow.

Aside from that, there were times when he was alone and Tom was at 'Bellame's and Gertrude's', a primary school for Wizarding children, he would sit alone in their kitchen and think. Just sit there for several hours staring at his coffee mug and thinking. There was still always a small shock when he stared at Tom, although it hardly bothered him these days. The shock that reminded him, deep under everything else inside his head, in spite of the time he spent with Tom, there was distilled hate that lurked in the darkness along with his frightful memories. He buried it, and never let it come out when he was with Tom. However, even now he still had nights where he would wake up breathless and alarmed, covered in sweat. Then he would find himself staring at the sleeping figure next to him, in a somewhat paranoid, unmoving trance before he slowly regained his composure and closed his eyes. Before letting unconsciousness pull him away, he would assure himself that he could wait. If Tom showed any sign of that monster then he'll kill the boy with no ands, ifs, or buts. Yes, if his love and guidance was not enough to stop the manifesting of Voldemort, he'd kill him.

But, then again, there were other times when he gazed at Tom and he was…Happy. It felt wrong, and at the same time it was the most wonderful feeling he had ever felt. He felt wanted, needed, trusted. Of course he would frown at the thought of Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, and the others. If they had ever known that he actually liked taking care of the Dark Lord, they'd completely despise him. Nevertheless, oh Merlin help him, with Tom in his life he'd acquired so many things he'd wanted but could not get in his own time line. He'd relearned how to live, to not rush things and instead, to just sit and enjoy the view. He was also released from his title and high expectations that he had never wanted in the first place. He was not the chosen one anymore, and when he strolled through Diagon Alley, he reveled in his insignificance. Apart from a few darting glances up and down his profile, he was ignored. Nobody thrusting their hands into his face for a wave of hello or shouts of 'Are you Harry Potter?'… It was exhilarating. And most important of all, he finally found a family for himself with Tom. He was beginning to understand how fond he was becoming of the boy and it was scaring him.

**Xxxxxxxxxxxx**

Finishing up breakfast, both of them put on their fur lined cloaks and got ready for the cold. It was the middle of winter in England and like all winters, it was very harsh White Christmas. The weather filled the streets with a three feet deep snow, much to Tom's annoyance. He was still a little boy, only reaching his father's waist at his height of 5'3. Harry laughed at him before volunteering to offer his services. He picked the boy up and carried him on his shoulders, heading for the floo network that was located near the iron entrance of the gated community. They momentarily got into the odd chimney that looked like it appeared out of nowhere. Harry grabbed a handful of floo powder before throwing it in and yelling their desired location, "Diagon Alley!" making sure to say it clearly and with the right pronunciation. He smiled, already remembering the last incident at the Weasley's.

"Where too first?" Harry mumbled, easily waving his hand and dusting both of them off.

"There." Tom pointed at the Quidditch supplies shop on their right. Harry beamed at this sudden interest and happily walked.

They went in and Harry stared at all the polished and new models, effectively Harry had seen these and the newer editions back in his time. One of the brooms in particular looked like Ron's old Cleansweep One. That got him smiling as he freely scanned the aisles in interest.

"Harry, Harry!" His name was called from the front aisles, nearby the checkout area. He quickly moved towards the voice of his ward to see him holding a large broom, most likely one of the newer models. Harry peered at the broom's head, searching for the name that should be branded there. It was a Comet 140. If Harry had remembered correctly from the book he had borrowed from Ron, 'Quidditch History Through the Ages', this one was only created this year and it was a highly professional broom. Only players who already knew how to fly could ride it.

"I want this one." Tom stated, tenderly stroking the smoothed end of the broom.

"Tom that is a professional broom, it's for people who already know how to ride, Darling. How about you pick something out from the…" Doe-like eyes flashed at him, and the already knowing pout reared from the corner of the boy's face.

"D-don't you dare young man. This broom is dangerous a-and you could get hurt and…the safety issues and…, Merlin." Harry gave a heavy sigh, scowling at Tom's demeaning lost puppy face. "What am I going to do with you?" He shook his head and quickly trailed his hand through his hair before giving in and purchasing the broom for him. It might of been his mistake for spoiling the little boy in the first place. After adopting Tom, he had not hesitated in providing anything the little boy wished. Toys, books, hell he even made a small game room in the house dedicated to his son. At first, he had assumed that he was being thoughtful towards the boys deprived childhood, but after some time, he had quickly understood that Tom's charisma could stretch anyone under his will. He had already charmed all his school teachers, his classmates, and even his father. It made Harry a bit uneasy, but he denied it was anything to do with _'him'_.

As they got out, Tom giddily hugged his broom to himself while with his other hand held tightly onto his father's. Harry muttered under his breath, "Spoiled brat. Innocent kid my arse. What were you thinking Harry?" Tom was preening with smugness as they passed other Wizarding families shopping at Diagon Alley. The parents gasped as they saw a seven year old holding the dangerous broom, they then switched their eyes to Harry and glowered. Their kids watched in awe and then proceeded to yank their father's sleeves and said in a snotty tone, "Why can't you buy me that?"

Harry told Tom that he had to make a quick stop at Gringott's. He gave Tom a couple of galleons and lightly pushed the little boy in the direction of the nearest candy shop, but not before saying, "Don't forget to get me some of their special milk chocolate." Tom nodded happily. Still holding his broom with an iron grip, he quickly trotted towards the rainbow colored shop.

Harry looked on with a smile, and as he heard the trilling of a bell signaling Tom's entry, he began walking the opposite direction towards Gringott's with a grim face. Heading towards the reception desk he asked for the goblin named Griphook. The goblin eyed him warily before nodding and went in search for his co-worker. Harry walked over to a vacant chair and sat, grabbing the newspaper copy placed on the table in front of him.

"Hello Mr. Potter." Harry lifted his eyes from the newspaper and he saw Griphook. He looked much younger then he was in the 1990's.

"How did you know who I was?" He inquired with a raised eyebrow, not remembering giving his name to the other goblin.

"I've always told you goblins were a much higher race then Wizards, have I not? It is not so much a secret, but Wizards were never interested in our magic to find out." Griphook smirked and seated himself next to Harry.

"Find out what?"

"Goblin's minds are different from the regular human Wizard, Mr. Potter. Time does not control us. Our minds are…separated into several diverse parts; these parts are used to store a large database of memories from different time lines of our lives. Even now I could describe to you the first time you came to Gringotts in 1991." Griphook curled his lips up.

Harry smiled at the memory as well before sighing and flashing his eyes towards Griphook's brown orbs.

"I need your help Griphook."

"Since you are here, I can only guess that you had failed in your destiny?"

"I am here to change the future."

Xxxxxxxxxx

Revised- 08/28/10


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** So sorry guys, I got caught up on vacation and when I got home, the internet wasn't working. So I just got it fixed today and I'm hoping to catch up with more chapters. This was a quick one and I'm thinking of the next update being this Saturday, so look forward to it XD!

I LOVE YOU

BC.

Xxxxxxxxx

With the trilling of bells, Tom entered the colorful domain and began to search for his favorite sweet, peppermint licorice. He grinned at the old man behind the counter top. They were both familiar with each other since Harry made it a tradition to come at least once a week.

Tom walked to the back of the store where his and Harry's sweets were hung on white racks. Humming to himself, he grabbed a number of other goodies just for later kicks, which included: pumpkin pasties, chocolate frogs, blood pops, and others assorted into his bag. He smiled to himself, if it was one thing that Harry and he had in common, it was that both of them had a very greedy sweet tooth. They spent many nights dozing around the fire and devouring candy after candy, and in the morning, both would wake up groaning with terrible, lingering stomach aches. Then, as lovers of sweets, they would foolishly do it again as soon as they acquired a big enough pile.

He trotted over to the grinning store owner and gave him the bag. The store owner gazed down at the pile with a knowing look and gave out a low chuckle; his naturally rosy cheeks and chest-length beard made him appear like a Christmas Santa Clause.

"Hello Tom, I see another huge purchase today. How are you and your father?" He asked casually, separating the candy piles while punching numbers into his register.

"Fine sir."

"Is that right? It surprises me how all your teeth aren't falling out with all these sweets you buy. In fact, you and your father are without a doubt my finest patrons. Merlin knows how both of you get rid of em' all so fast." Shaking his head and chuckling in enjoyment, the store owner quickly wrapped the chocolate into a ribboned Christmas gift box. "This is for your father," he gestured towards the box before quickly packing the other sweets into a big decorated box, "And for you. The boxes are free of charge." He patted the packages charmingly before pushing it towards Tom.

"Now, that'll be sixteen galleons and five sickles." Tom extracted the money from his pocket and paid the kind man. He collected his candy and nodded in farewell.

"Give Harry my regards, won't you?" The cheery old man said while reaching over and ruffling his neatly primed hair, much to his discontentment.

Tom walked out and briefly collected himself in a nearby window, feeling his hair totally out of place. After doing so, he gathered his fur-lined cloak to himself and strutted elegantly towards where he last saw his father. He was so happy. Today was definitely his day and no one else's. He had his new broom, he had candy, and he had Harry. Tom thought nothing could go wrong.

Several months before, when he was lying in his bed at the orphanage after another of Roderick's surprise punishments and trying to sleep off the pain of the whip marks on his back, he would've never guessed that he would end up like this. He finally had a loving father to take care of him. He didn't need to share his toys or clothes with anyone else. He didn't need to watch his back for that creepy, fat caretaker. Aside from the thrill of learning about magic, it was pure bliss, not that he'd ever admit it, to wake up every morning in his father's arms and not in that icy cold bed he'd had in the orphanage.

In the act of walking, he felt a pair of arms suddenly grip his shoulders. With a quiet yelp, he was pushed roughly into the snow and landed on his back. His assailant ran back to a group of unruly looking young boys who had similar smirks on their face. Tom instinctively pressed his possessions closer to his person.

"What do you want?" He sneered with a holier-than-thou tone, watching the leader of the group arrogantly step forward.

"We don't want much, right lads?" The other boys nodded towards their leader.

"And there won't be any trouble for 'you' girlie, if you just hand over that Comet140." The blonde haired leader crossed his arms and faced Tom with a dignified smirk. Tom could feel his jaw widening in annoyance and disbelief. The minger thought he was a girl! There was nothing feminine about him!

Blondie snapped his fingers and went back to his crossed-arms stance, waiting for something to happen. Tom watched carefully as none of them moved, raising an eyebrow at this. Blondie groaned and snapped once again, staring at his goons to do something.

Having enough, he finally screamed, "Surround her you dolts!", his enormous schnozzle widening in his furiousness as he glared at his band of misfits, finally seeing heads nod in understanding. Tom's grip tightened on his possessions as he glowered at the leader, "I'm not a girl." He stated clearly to all of them, but was completely ignored.

"Now, where were we?" Blondie evilly smirked at Tom and stepped closer, "It's not like you can fly that thing anyways. Since you're a girl and all, and everyone knows girls can't fly a broom," He pronounced chauvinistically. "If you think about it, you should feel happy we're taking the embarrassment off your hands sweetcakes." The leader laughed like he made a joke and his idiots snorted with him.

"I'm not a girl." Tom, once again, exclaimed, feeling quite irritated that he was once again ignored, his statement blocked by the noisy cackles of laughter.

"And while we're at it, you can give us those bags of candies you're carrying too, little girl. They look quite delicious from here. We'll gladly take them off your hands." The leader stepped closer and those around him reciprocated. Tom clutched the broom Harry had bought him specifically for his seventh birthday, and if he remembered correctly, it had been the only real birthday present he'd ever been given, and Merlin be damned if he'd let these miscreants touch it.

The leader, seeing Tom's body stiffen, cracked his knuckles before warning, "I'm not afraid to hit a girl, toots." And Tom finally had enough.

"For the third and last time you ugly, dimwitted git! I AM NOT A GIRL!" Tom yelled, absolutely infuriated. The leader raised an eyebrow in confusion before walking around him, examining the angry little boy. After several awkward minutes of eyes poking and prodding Tom's person, Blondie nodded his head in acceptance before yelling to his mates, "Well would you look at that, he is a lad!" The leader smirked and pointed his index finger at Tom, "Grab him!" The boys immediately ran towards him with their hands out, making to grab him and punch him.

Tom couldn't run anywhere, he was surrounded. He fended most of them off but ended up being kneed in the stomach and was momentarily dog piled on until he could barely breath. Tom, from his position front first on the ground, felt the blonde snatch the broom from his hands and he immediately cried out in anger, "Give it back! That's mine!" while still being held down by the rest of them.

The leader curled his lips to another awful smirk, twirling the broom in his hand. "Aww is the wittle girlie boy going to cry to his mommy? John, give im' another punch just for being a good sport." The punch surprised Tom and as they let him go, he rolled onto his side, holding his injured stomach.

"Thanks for the presents kid! We'll all enjoy em'." The leader leered as he waved the perfectly wrapped candies in Tom's face and with his broomstick in the other. Tom glared at him, his hate burning through his eyes. It wasn't fair. He was outnumbered ten to one. There was no way for him to get his broom back and even if Harry bought another one it just wouldn't be the same. He hated them for this and he wanted them to vanish. With Harry in mind, he watched sadly as the leader started walking away with his broom. Tom closed his eyes, feeling tears dripping down his face. Unexpectedly, the sudden rush of magic floated through his core. He gasped, knowing full well something happened by the sudden swish of noise he heard in front of him.

Tom hadn't felt this nostalgic sensation in the last six months. And as he opened his eyes, he saw his broomstick and candy boxes lying on the white ground. The gangly group of boys were nowhere in sight, they had just disappeared. 'Weird' Tom thought before carefully standing up, his stomach still stinging harshly. He picked up his broom and inspected it and nodded approvingly, it had not been damaged. He examined the grounds, still seeing evidence of wet footprints marking the pallid floor but shrugged it off. He was content as long as he had his broom back. Picking up the boxes of candy, he quickly realized that Harry might be looking for him right now. Not even minding his scruffy appearance or the sudden vanishing of the eight young boys, he started sprinting towards Gringotts.

Xxxxxxxx

"Dad!" Tom called, wincing as his father turned his head in Tom's direction, appearing quite put out and with an expression of complete anxiousness.

"Tom! Wh-what did you think you were doing running off like that?" Harry yelled in between breaths as he walked quickly towards his son. His forehead was in a deep crease as he watched his son angrily. His fists were shaking as he tried to calm his ever tightening nerves.

Tom flinched at Harry's tone, his father had never yelled at him before within the six months they had been living together. Tom gazed at the way his father gripped his fists and gasped, recoiling away from his guardian. The stance reminded him of the way Roderick would stand before beating him to the ground.

Harry noticed Tom's draw back and immediately dropped his demeanor, hoping the boy didn't get the wrong idea. He sighed and wondered when parenting had gotten so difficult. Softly pinching the bridge of his nose, Harry stared silently at his little boy before asking in a hopefully calm voice,

"Tom, where were you?" Tom heard Harry's question and contemplated his answer. Should he tell Harry what happened? But what if Harry got angrier and never talks to him again. Or worse, he would send Tom back to that wretched orphanage just because of it. He decided that it might not be the best idea to tell his father in the state that he was in. Better yet, Tom would keep it to himself. It wouldn't be telling the truth, but at least he wouldn't be lying.

Harry watched as his son did not meet his gaze and instead entertained himself by staring at his shoes. He didn't give so much a worry where the boy was before, instead he wondered why Tom didn't tell him before going off. It wasn't like Tom to do something like this, or so he thought.

He sighed once again before continuing in a drained voice, "You…you nearly scared me to death, Tom. I was looking for you everywhere. Do you even know how scared I was?" He tipped his son's chin and watched as tears filled the delicate brown orbs, "You should know that I worry a lot about you. When I couldn't find you I was really scared and I felt helpless. You've never seen me scared of anything, right?" Tom promptly nodded. "Well, you have the power to make me so frightened that I still can't stop shaking." He nodded towards his trembling arms. Tom chuckled at this before sniffling and wiping his nose with his sleeve, not a normal occurrence for him but neither was crying.

"I love you Tom, and as your father, I want to protect you. You can't just go gallivanting to Merlin knows where without telling me, because if I can't find you then I can't keep up my fatherly duties of protecting you… So don't do that again." Harry gave him a half-smile, ruffling the boy's scruffy locks.

"From now on, you have to tell me these things. If you're going to the toy store, or Florean's, or somewhere else before coming back here then alright, I will allow you. But you have to tell me first or else I'm going to get very scared and very worried about your whereabouts. Do we have an agreement?" Harry stuck his right pinkie out.

Tom smiled at his father and nodded, linking his pinkie to Harry's. Without moments due, he was embraced by a pair of strong arms. Trying to find his ground with no avail, he was abruptly picked up by his father and leveled into a muscular chest. His front was met by his father's torso and as he whined into Harry's ear, he was only met by the reply of, "Don't struggle Tom, or you'll fall." He immediately stopped thrashing about as Harry laughed and continued walking.

"You know, you brought this onto yourself young man and I won't be letting you down until we get home."

"But Dad, I'm not a baby, I can walk next to you on my own. You don't have to coddle me." Tom groaned, hearing his father chuckle at his words.

"If you hadn't suddenly come up with this wonderful idea of yours to go off on your own then I wouldn't be babying you, would I? I assure you, this isn't even half your punishment. We will be doing this for the rest of the week." Harry stated with a slight chipper tone, grinning as he heard another groan from his son. "Or until I feel satisfied." The next grunt from Tom ended the day for both of them as they headed home.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: Do you hate it, like it, love it? Tell me by reviewing! XD

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Drabbles!: (Tom and Harry when they got home.)

Tom: Dad, I want you to read me a book before I go to bed.

Harry: Okay Honey, you pick it out and I'll go up in a few minutes.

(Few minutes…)

Harry: …you want me to read…this? (Flabbergasted)

Tom: *nodnod*

Harry: For bedtime?

Tom: *nodnod with a cheery smile*

Harry: Alright (awkward)…Battle Magic of… the Medieval Kind by Unus the Unpleasant…

(Several minutes later)

Harry: (wide-eyed)…and as you plunder the peasants don't forget to—… (stares at Tom)

Tom: zzz

Harry: *smiles and kisses Tom's forehead* Happy seventh birthday, sweet Prince.

Xxxxxxxxxxx


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Okay sweeties and sweetlets, here's the chapter I promised all of you! Read it, review it, and enjoy it!— not in that order! Btw, I am planning in the future to make a 'darker' Tom, for those who feel this is too light and fluffy, so you'll just have to wait for the plot to unravel to find out XD. You're already seeing the progress, aren't you? Also, this was another quick one and yes I'm so sorry i didn't make it longer. I preferred to deliver this earlier, but I didn't know if... it was 'right'. So i rewrote it a couple of times, argued with myself more then a couple of times, it is truly hard to be a writer XD i don't know how they could make those deadlines. Anyways, I do hope in the future that I can make longer chapters, for you, for me, and for my self esteem. Enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** If HP were my books, there would be talking monkeys running the Wizarding world and every Friday would be Olive Friday and there would be enough Tom/Harry slash to fill an entire concert hall, but JKR owns it. Too bad.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Before either of them came to realize that the months were passing them within a blink of an eye, it was already mid-June, a full year since Tom had been adopted. The sun perched high in the sky, lingering there from early noons to late evenings. The raging summer heat changed black-lined trousers to more comfortable white cotton shorts.

Harry had finally decided to take Griphook's proposition for a job as a curse breaker to lessen peoples' rising suspicions. Although he had enough money for him and Tom to live a well-off life together for a lengthy amount of time, the wealthy, single bachelor story was not going to hold up forever within society. He waved it off when people started wondering where his affluence came from, but found it harder and harder to make up stories as time went on. His latest one being that he had acquired his fortune from a Desert Priest for helping him defeat an almighty 'Kruag', a monster he made up that would have had six legs and five arms and a lolling tongue. It was more believable then he had thought as he gossiped about it at Minister Spavin's sixtieth birthday bash. The witches, as they always did, swooned and nodded their heads in worry while the men stared in amazement at his story and interest at this frightful new creature they had never even heard of. Harry had only one thought in mind as he smiled at them like it was nothing at all, Sirius would've been proud.

Aside from obtaining a new and relatively simple job, nothing changed much. Harry was completely settled into his comfortable life with Tom. His son did not so much as leave his side for the first month after Harry's frightful experience at Diagon Alley, not that he would've let the boy go. Harry didn't ask Tom about where he had spent that afternoon when they had gotten home, assuming that it was nothing to worry about. Boys were boys after all and he had his fair share of mischief in his own younger years. Tom had insistently apologized and both of them agreed that they would forget this and move on.

Harry was quietly sitting outside on a picnic blanket, peacefully reading a novel that was recommended to him by one of his female friends, Adrianna Grogan. The book was about the uses of magical theory in improving one's own magic, quite fascinating indeed. He could now fathom an idea of what Hermione felt like when she kept bugging both he and Ron about the wonders of reading. Yes, he was quite settled in his wonderment that he didn't even notice his son advancing his Comet140 higher into the skies. He heard his son's call and momentarily raised his eyes before nearly sputtering forth long into a seizure.

"Dad, look! Look! I'm doing it!" Tom yelled cheerfully as he continued elevating.

"Tom, I told you to stay low! What the bloody hell are you doing all the way up there? Get down now!" Harry screamed, staring as the Comet140 drifted on top of the lofty height of one of their redwood trees.

"But Dad, I'm finally flying it! Do you know how many boys at school are going to be jealous when I tell them that I could finally fly this thing?" Tom replied, gazing happily down at his cooperating broom.

"I- I know son, but at the height you're at, it's very dangerous and critical to my psychological health, so get down!" Harry briefly wondered if he should pop out his Firebolt and get the little bugger down himself. No, he briefly shook his head, he was too scared to leave Tom alone out here. What if something happened to Tom while he was gone? He would never forgive himself.

"Oh Dad, don't be such a worrywart! I'm fine, see?" Tom demonstrated his mastery of the broom by flying in small circles and doing quick plunges to the ground. Harry swallowed a frightened gasp as one of the plunges was particularly too close for his comfort. Tom chuckled at his father's antics and quickly sped his Comet140 higher into the sky then he had ever been.

Harry stared and finally noticed something terribly wrong. Tom was in a stance that he had been all too familiar with as a seeker, the Wronski Feint. Morganna's tits, the boy was insane! Harry had not even mastered the complex skill yet, let alone a complete beginner trying it out!

"Oh no you don't, young man! You get down here right this instant! Thomas Potter, if you even try that trick I will immediately take away your broom a—and it'll be no sweets for a month!" Harry sputtered furiously, restraining himself from yelling obscenities at the insane little devil.

Tom watched the ground, trying to ignore the further vocal protests from his father. He had sought to do this ever since Harry had bought him that book, Quidditch: Tricks and Skills Galore! back in February. It didn't seem too hard when he stared at the moving pictures of internationally renowned seeker, Finch Fitchburg, doing an example of the Wronski Feint in the book. Plunge down. Twirl. Pull up. Easy as that. He inhaled through his nose and started plunging down at maximum speed. Amidst the plunging, he started twirling about and sooner found that he couldn't keep tempo. The awkward twirling led him to feel dizzy and before he knew it, he was falling through the air without a broom. It was an effortless fall and as he landed on his hands, a quick sharp crunch left his right wrist and with it, a searing burn began emanating. He cried out in pain.

"Tom!" Harry screamed, running towards the bedraggled lump.

"Dad, it hurts! Make it stop! Make it stop!" Tom cried hysterically, letting Harry cradle his wrist. He watched as his father immediately pull out an ebony wand.

"I know it does sweetie, but you've got to stop moving for me to do this right." Harry insisted while stroking his son's back. He had never taken Healers Training 101 back at school, but he knew his fair share of healing spells to go on without it. They were surprisingly more difficult for him to perform then others, so in cases like these, he would need the help of his wand to focus his magic. Although, he'd hoped to never use this spell on anyone ever since second year when Lockhart had performed it incorrectly on him and instead of mending his bones, had caused the removal of them. It took a whole month to get any feeling back into his right arm. However, he had seen Hermione perform it easily more than once, and then again he was nothing like Lockhart, the imposter. This should be simple enough for him.

"It hurts a lot! Please Dad, make it stop!" Tom sobbed once again, stumbling on his words.

Harry positioned the wand over the pale hand in his and enunciated so to make no mistake, "Brackium Emendo." A blue light came from the tip of his wand and glided over Tom's wrist. After the brief glide, Tom could feel a numbing in his hand and as it went away, he carefully moved his wrist and surprisingly felt no pain. Harry took Tom into his arms and quietly stroked the sniffling boy's wrist.

"Alright. It's alright, see, no more pain. You're going to be fine son. You're going to be fine." He softly cooed, trying to calm the little boy by drawing small circles into his back.

After several long moments of silence, a low voice whispered huskily into his ear, "Thank you Dad. I- I'm sorry I didn't listen to you."

"I know… It's alright Tom. I'll let that go just this once, but the next time when I say it's too high for you, I want you to listen to me and come down." Tom nodded before placing his cheek against his father's neck.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You mean you actually flew it?"

"Yes." Tom nodded, watching his friends. Reagan and Andrew were both two years older and in his class. All of them were graduating next summer even though Tom was only seven. He gazed at them for both their response. Of course, Reagan raised his eyebrows in disbelief and Andrew, being the more intelligent of the two, nodded in acceptance. It was break time and all of them were gathered at their usual spot, nestled under the shade of a group of oak trees.

"Reagan, you sound oddly surprised mate. Clearly, if Tom could skip two grades within the middle of the year, then I'm sure he could fly a nasty Comet140 with his hands tied behind his back." Andrew stated, his eyes still darting left to right on the pages of the book he was currently reading.

"I'm not surprised, it's just, I mean my older brother's on the Gryffindor Quidditch team and he's still having trouble riding it." Reagan sighed while unconsciously tearing one of the broken leaves.

"Didn't your brother just get his last week? Tom has had his broom for already a year."

"Correction, six months." Tom replied, looking over his Wizard History study guide.

"Six months, still an amazing feat wouldn't you say Reagan?" Andrew teased.

"I- I could do it in six months…" Reagan chirped, gazing aimlessly at their school yard.

"Of course you can mate." Andrew drawled. Tom and Andrew briefly exchanged glances before laughing.

"Oh shut up, both of you." Reagan stated with a crooked smile.

They chuckled altogether before slowly stopping. All of them watched as a group of boys strutted in their direction.

"Uh-Oh, Griffins at it again...is that a wand he's carrying?" Andrew exclaimed, eying the wand in the brunette's grasp.

"The little condescending ponce probably nagged his father for it." Reagan sneered as they came closer.

"Nah, knowing him. He probably stole it off Olivanders when he wasn't looking." Tom put in, gazing emotionlessly at the oncoming entourage.

Griffin and his hanger-on's were the school bullies. They saved particular interest in torturing Tom for reasons unknown. It was unlikely that if he stayed in his original second year that there would've been any less bullying against him. The first time he had ever seen Griffin was when he was walking through the halls, trying to deliver books to Madame Sanderson. At the time, his arms were filled with books and he tried to loosely walk, while at the same time watch ahead of him. People politely maneuvered by him, but as he made his way into the classroom, a boy roughly walked out of the door and pushed him to the side, making him drop everything. Griffin sneered at him evilly and ever since that time, Tom watched his back whenever he was alone.

"Hello half-backs, what are you looking at freak?" Griffin sneered, gazing at Tom with an expression of mild disgust.

"Watch it Griffin, I don't know if you've heard but Tom's father is fairly powerful. I wouldn't mind much if he suddenly turned you into a tea cozy for calling his son names." Reagan glared, crossing his arms in defiance.

"Oh please, I could take on the freak's father even without magic." Griffin smirked, watching as Tom's eyes became inflamed.

Andrew saw this and quickly pulled him back, "He's not worth it. Just let it go mate." Tom breathed through his nose and tried to calm his rushing heartbeat. "Right." He sighed, steeling himself.

"Did you know Potter," Griffin started again, "that your father is a foul cheat and a liar? My father says that your family is hiding something and even if everyone else believes your father's ridiculous stories, he doesn't. I guess bad blood only runs in the family, don't you agree Tommy?" Griffin laughed while his mates laughed with him.

"Shut up! You're the liar!" Tom yelled, glaring at the witless tyrant. "Don't even think of talking about my father like that!"

"Or what? You're going to sick your two little pansies on me? Can't handle your own problems, can you freak?" Griffin leered, walking closer so that he stood right in front of Tom, his hands on either side of his hips.

"That's it!" Tom could not comprehend what happened next. In a burst of anger, he lunged himself onto the boy, going for his face. Settling two punches on both sides of the git's cheeks, he was wrestled onto his back. Andrew and Reagan ran at them but were held back by Griffins devotees. Griffin striked back with a hasty punch to Tom's head that made him see stars, followed by a badly aimed blow to his ribs. Tom hissed at the pain and tried to wrestle him off, but the weight of the overgrown dimwit was staggering his lungs. He was tired and took the next four punches with only a few groans of pain. Griffin stopped momentarily, smirking at Tom who was lying under him, trying to catch a breath.

"Had enough did'cha?"

The question was left unanswered because of a sudden loud hiss coming from the ivy bushes. Everyone raised their eyes towards the mysterious sound. It came closer and everyone gazed at the piercing blackness that differentiated from the green of the leaves surrounded it. The two black orbs slowly revealed itself to be the eyes of a rather large, dangerous looking viper.

"It's a snake!" Reagan screamed, staggering back with the rest of the group.

Griffin made to move but immediately froze at the loud hiss that came from the viper, opting himself to slowly maneuver away. The snake followed him, reciprocating his movements like a predator stalking its prey. Tom heard it. As the snake hissed, he heard the drawling of the slithering tongue 'Should I kill him?'

'No!' Tom instinctively yelled, watching as the pulsating blackness landed on him.

'You ssspeak in my tongue, young prince?' the snake questioned, coiling himself back to Tom.

'I- I am?' Tom widened his eyes in amazement, not feeling any different. All the boys gazed at him with fear in their eyes.

'Yes,…My name is Nagini and as a snake speaker, you may command me as you wish. Have you any desire for me to kill this fat one, I will gladly oblige." The snake hissed, darting its eyes at Griffin. The boy gasped and trembled, "No, not me! Bite him!"

'You see how he cowers in fear. He is not worthy to live even in your shadows.' Nagini ridiculed, gazing haughtily at Griffin. Nagini glided closer towards the trembling lump, stretching her body to tower over him.

"Tom, tell it to stop!" Reagan called, staring fearfully at the twelve foot long, green snake.

Nagini bared his fangs at Reagan, the pearly whiteness glistened lethally in the sun.

'Nagini, don't! He's my friend. And you may not hurt any of the others.' Tom hissed, warily gazing at the viper.

The snake's eyes landed on him and with a snake-like nod, Nagini trailed over to Tom's side. 'As you wish, master.' Tom smiled for a moment, before a harsh cry swept through his ears. One of the teachers had spotted them.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Hey guys, school starts tomorrow and I just wanted to do a quick update just in case I don't get to later. My goal for this story right now is that I want it to be inevitable, as faith twists history back to how it should be, that Tom, before going to Hogwarts, would be the Tom that would make all the wrong choices. As for this chapter, his trust with Harry will frail a lot and... in coming to that, Tom would stray further into the 'dark side'.

On a side note, I think maybe I should make the release dates every week, preferably every Saturday because of homework and other things. Enjoy! And do know that I love you all!

Sincerely,

BC

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Harry's gaze narrowed at the three doorways in front of him. He was located somewhere in Egypt, probably near the Western Deserts.

As a curse breaker, Gringotts had sent him on one of many mandatory, small business trips. He had just taken down a fairly easy fire ward and broken into some dead person's crypt. At the moment, he was stuck with three decisions. All three of them might lead to his death anyways, so lady luck be damned, he chose the middle one. 'Lumos' Harry took small steps, his nerves on high alert.

As he strolled through the narrowed passageway, he took small lingering glances at the pictures scribed on the walls among the hieroglyphics. He noticed there were several other pictures all pertaining to a bird like being. Harry only hoped that he didn't have to personally meet this monster. Pacing himself, he stopped as he reached a bright doorway made of solid gold, and sparkling with other jewels. Harry rolled his eyes at this, it was another hopeless case. The door practically screamed 'This is the treasure room!'

'Reducto!' The doorknob broke off and formed into tiny sand particles on the floor. He didn't trust using doorknobs after last time when it turned into an acromantula and tried to attack him.

'Alohomora' The door opened and Harry steadily walked in, his eyes ignoring the gold coins that spanned the floor, opting himself to look for the chest that was supposed to be in there. Spying the bejeweled chest lying in the corner of the room, he crookedly smiled. This was just too easy. Walking straight for it, he touched the opening of the chest and instantly felt a dark aura stemming from across the room. Swiftly turning around, he saw a wonder that most wizards had no opportunity to see, surrounded in the mist of its shadows was a living –well partially anyways-, breathing, Harpy.

"Oh shit." Harry mumbled to himself, fixing his wand at the terrifying creature.

It's torn and fleshy wing spanned from its back in folds, the bone protruded outwards with each fold. Its head was hairless and its skin was as dark as the night. The light coming from Harry's lumos made the skin look waxened and shiny. Its eyes were an unblinking blackness, gleaming under the magic light. Its face had no nose or lips, gazing at Harry emotionlessly. Within a heartbeat, Harry saw the claws retracting out from its hands and feet. An animalistic growl tore through the black hole in its face where lips should have been. The creature bared its teeth and Harry saw that all of them were pointy and jagged like that of a great white shark.

Not waiting for its next move, Harry sent a 'Sectumsempra' flying towards the creature. The red light struck across its chest and black blood began spilling from the center. It had struck deep into the heart area, but seeing as the creature might not even have a heart, Harry watched for any signs of weaknesses as the harpy staggered back. Good, it felt pain.

It rose on its hind legs, positioning its claws for a strike. With a high leap, its fleshy wings spanned out as it flew quickly in Harry's direction. 'Petrificus Totalus' the purple ray flew out of his palm, catching the dark creature in its chest. The charm only managed to infuriate it even more. It jumped in front of him, slashing its claws across his chest and firmly tossing him into a corner. Harry gasped and placed his palm over the scratches that were already beginning to bleed profusely. It was invulnerable to charms. He shook his head in annoyance, why was it never easy?

He glared back at the dark creature, "Alright, you want to play do you?" With a flick of both his wrists, two fireballs appeared in his hands, swirling in a haze of orange and red. "Have it your way then." He finished, throwing each one at the towering Harpy. On impact, the flames covered the creature from head to toe. Harry grinned in triumph, repeatedly casting the flame charm and aiming at the creature's body. However, he soon found it rather odd that the Harpy wasn't staggering back. Instead, it stayed frozen in place. He did a double take and gasped, the harpy was absorbing the fire into its skin.

"Oh, this is not good." Immediately stopping the 'Confringo's, he slowly backed away. Not missing a heartbeat, the creature roared with a shrill cry and seconds later, a huge burst of flame tore through its mouth. Harry quickly bounded behind a large stone pillar, successfully avoiding the blaze. Panting heavily, he mentally punched himself in the head. Of course! How stupid could he have gotten, defending himself with fire! The creature was practically born from hell fire! If that wasn't enough to set his nerves into total combustion, his two way mirror began ringing from his pant pocket. He jumped in surprise before slowly sighing, quietly taking it out. He watched aimlessly behind him as the fire kept up with no chance of stopping.

"What is it Darling, Daddy's working." Harry paced, staring as the Harpy came closer, fire still flaring out non-stop.

"Dad…um, well…" came the gloomy reply.

"Quickly!" Harry called, diving towards the other end of the room. Okay Harry, calm yourself! Now, Harpies, what weakens them the most? Hermione told you something about it… dark creature! It's a dark creature! And to defeat the dark...you need light! You obviously need light! So if it's light then it's…

"I'm… kind of in trouble." Tom exclaimed, lightly blushing in embarrassment.

And instantly, his thoughts vanished.

"Wh-what? What happened, Tom? Where are you? Are you okay?" He asked, his voice rising in panic. "I'll come get you right away!"

He gazed at the mirror, his son's ominous face alarming him even more. He deflected an incoming blast of fire whilst keeping his eyes on Tom. His son stared sideways, daring not to look at him, "It-It's not that kind of trouble, Dad. It's hard to explain." Anxiety present in his tone.

"Start explaining." Dive. 'Protego'. Dive once more.

"Dad, you sure you're able to talk right now? You seem a little busy. I can always call back later." Tom stampered insistently.

"Oh no, I'm fine!" Harry yelled, barely missing another violent surge of fire.

"Well, today at school, something peculiar happened to me."

"Peculiar, you say?" He panted, aiming a couple of slashing hexes at the harpy.

"Yes, I reckon it was like one of those times."

"One of those times when your magic ran rampant?"

"Something like that. All I know is that I didn't do it on purpose and now..."

"Son, you might as well just spill it. I'll find out later anyways." Harry grunted, springing away from its talons.

"Now I'm sitting in the headmistress's office and they locked me in because they think I set a snake on Griffin." Tom finished, biting his lower lip.

"Oh." Pushing aside the oncoming shock, he had not a moment to be dumbfounded. Facing the creature, he proceeded to finish his flow of thought. It was a dark creature and to defeat the dark there must be light…to produce light. Ah-hah! He smirked in triumph.

He lifted his arm above his head and thought of his happiest memory. It was the night he had discovered the Mirror of Erised. There, he sat on the cold stone floor, talking to his mother and father. Who neither replied back, but gave loving smiles no less. However, in his mind, the memory suddenly faded, and in its place was, much to his astonishment, Tom and him at a park. It was one of the earlier moments when Tom threw down his walls and acted his age. They lay together underneath a couple of trees, out of breath, watching the peachy hue of the horizon slowly set. It might've been one of the more untainted memories he ever had.

'Expecto Patronum!' From his glowing palm, a stag leapt out from the light. Spying the harpy, it clapped its hooves angrily on the ground, sending out spurts of light beams around the room. The creature staggered back with an animalistic screech. His patronus charged head-on at the darkness, the light beams seemed to cover the entity whole. Rays spilled into its mouth, illuminating through the gaping holes of its body. The brightness reached the center of its corpse and within moments, the Harpy was decimated into dust, leaving behind an undesired stench of sulfuric acid.

"Dad! Dad!" His son called from the mirror.

"I'll be at your school in five, wait for me." Harry assured Tom before hanging up. He lifted the treasure box and apparated away.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Wait! You haven't seen…Nagini." Tom slumped his shoulders and pouted.

The snake in question coiled itself around his neck and hissed, 'Your father seems quite young, Tom. How old is he?'

'He says he's about twenty-five.'

'Twenty-five you say? And, may I ask, how old are you?' Nagini hissed.

'Seven, I'm almost eight though.' Tom grinned at the thought.

'So, you were born in his eighteenth year.' Nagini stated, a puzzled expression donned on her face. 'Is that not a rarity for humans to have a hatchling at that age?'

'Well, I don't know. I guess you're right, Nagini.' Tom replied sheepishly.

'Where is your mother, prince?' The question struck a cord in his chest. A bland hollowness filled him.

'She died.' He answered, feeling no sadness or anger or loss.

'...My sincerest apologies.'

'It's alright. I never even met her.'

'I'm pleased to see that you rein your emotions so easily. I may already tell that you'll be a most worthy companion in the future. Do you know her name?'

'Actually, now that you ask, I never asked Harry who she was.' Tom crookedly smiled, making a note to ask Harry later.

The viper blinked its coal black eyes and froze in deep though, thoroughly mystified.

'What is it?' Tom inquired, staring quizzically at the twelve foot viper in front of him.

Nagini stared back at him, 'Nothing, do you think your father will let you keep me?'

'Of course, if it's Harry then he'll definitely let me keep you. He's very reasonable and I'm sure I can convince him to let you stay.' Tom stated confidently.

'You might think so little hatchling, but I have a small doubt. We shall see, won't we?' Nagini sighed, gazing at the locked wooden door of the office.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Harry landed in the middle of a silent corridor, next to the headmistress's office. A teacher spotted him and swiftly walked out of the room, opening the door for him to come in. He led Harry to an open archway, where they proceeded silently to a private room. The headmistress was there, reading through piles of ancient text. She adjusted her round glasses and gave him a moment's glance, before returning to her reading.

"You may leave, Nicholas." The headmistress stated, her eyes never leaving the texts. Seconds flew by, minutes swiftly passed…and finally the old, stern woman placed down her pages and gazed at him warily.

"Mr. Potter, are you aware that your son is imbued in the magic of Dark Arts?"

"I had no clue. What gave you that presumption?" Harry inquired, settling himself comfortably in his seat.

"It came to my attention that earlier this morning, one of my teachers caught young Tom trying to convince a snake to bite a boy named William Griffin. I presume you must know him. His father is one of your many colleagues, yes?" She watched him underneath her spectacles, wounding her fingers together and placing them on her desk.

"That's correct, but to what evidence can you state that he was commanding the snake to bite?" He calmly fought back.

"We have several witnesses on the side, and each one tells the same thing." She narrowed her eyes.

"And that is?"

"That it seemed as if Tom was baiting the snake in an ancient language only known as Parselmouth, do you know what this is Mr. Potter?" She smirked, thinking she finally had a hand in this conversation.

"Yes, it's the ability to talk to a snake. Actually, this contributing factor may have escaped my mind. You see, Parselmouth is an inherited talent that runs through my family's bloodline." Harry coolly supplied, grinning as he watched the woman's eyes widen in speculation.

"Oh? And where does it trace from?"

"Ah, that is a grueling fact that was sadly lost to my ancestors. But, to get back to the point, I think that you might be wrong. Knowing my son as I do Tom would never do this uncompelled."

"Are you saying that young Mr. Griffin pressed Tom to tell the snake to bite him?"

"What I'm saying is that my son might've been telling the snake to not bite the boy, Mrs. Stratford." Harry slowly exclaimed, watching the woman's eyes blink with recognition.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tom gazed heavily at the door, hearing small parts of the conversation and a few flashes of words, but couldn't piece together anything between his headmistress and his father.

'Would you like to hear them better?' Nagini hissed, from her spot on top of the desk.

Tom nodded, still watching the wooden door with an unblinking resolve. Within a heartbeat, a strange sensation pulsed his ears and eyes. His brown orbs happened to blur for a moment. The scenery vanished and then quickly reappeared in an almost too perfect picture. It was unknown to him that his eyes had changed from the dark, hazel brown to a bright blackness that matched Nagini's own eyes. His ears personified the sounds from outside and he could finally hear it clearly. Both adults were arguing.

"He has a twelve foot viper clinging to him!" Tom winced, waiting for his Dad's reaction.

"Clearly, but we've already gone over this , he is a Parselmouth. Being a Parselmouth, he can control the snake and if he did tell that viper to attack Mr. Griffin then it would've quickly done so. Aside from your weak arguments, you have not mentioned any injuries from any of the boys?"

"Actually, Mr. Griffin has two bruised cheeks." The woman held up two fingers, smirking as she did so.

"That I'm sure he had gotten from bullying my son. In fact, I saw that Tom had multiple bruises on his face, as well as a split lip. Care to explain?" Harry countered cheekily.

It was quiet for a few moments. Tom could only tell that the woman was now clueless as to what to do. He smirked in congrats to his father for another well fought argument won.

"Then I see that we have nothing else to say, correct Mrs. Stratford?"

A slow, hesitant response escaped her lips, "Very well. He's in the other room."

"It was pleasant to see you again." Harry politely murmured, standing up from his chair.

Tom heard the footsteps marching towards the room. He swiftly turned his head to his snake, 'Nagini take it off.'

The viper gazed at him and like lightning, his eyes flashed brightly before turning dark once more, 'It is done.'

Within a heartbeat, the door quickly unlocked and in came Harry, his midnight blue robes clinging handsomely to his figure. He paused for a moment in the doorway, gazing heavily at the viper from his place. He had seen it before. It was one of Voldemort's horcruxes, the one that managed to slither away from him and kill Neville in the act. The one that would've been the key to Voldemort's mortality and defeat. He grasped his fists, hiding it behind his back as he was forced to hide his furiousness in front of his son. Plastering on what he hoped to be a gentle smile, he walked towards them.

"C'mon... let's get you home." He patted Tom's back, his gaze wondering anywhere but at the viper that was currently giving him a calculating look.

"Hey Dad, I want to introduce you to Nagini." Tom asked gleefully stroking the viper. "May I keep her?"

"No, you may not." He bluntly answered.

"But why?" Tom asked, pouting his lips.

"No buts, Tom. That thing is not going anywhere near you again. It's dangerous."

"And why not? She's not dangerous! She protected me and... she's really nice!" Tom defended

"There is no thinking about it. You'll not be keeping that snake. Now get your rucksack, we best be leaving." He grumbled, locking eyes with his son.

'I told you Tom, he will not let you keep me.' Nagini hissed, staring unblinkingly at Harry.

'You stay out of this!' Harry yelled back.

Tom widened his eyes in amazement, "You can talk to snakes too?"

"Yes, I should have told you but…" He had forgotten. Much to his disbelief, he had completely overlooked this contributing factor of Tom's future.

"Either way, I'm sorry, but I'm not letting you keep her. If you really want a snake, I'll get you one. A different one." Harry beseeched, standing up to his full height.

Tom peered over towards Nagini, not knowing what to do. He knew it wasn't good to argue with his father. But, over the few hours of knowing each other, Nagini and he had connected, bonded. A familiar and her master. There was something there that he knew he couldn't break. It was terribly foolish of him to fight it, but he had only just found a new companion and he didn't think he could cope losing her so early.

"If you won't let me keep her, then…I'm not going home." He exclaimed, a strange alien sensation of defiance came over him. Nagini felt it as well, a lingering power was hidden deep under Tom's soul. She watched her companion closely.

"Tom, don't be so stubborn. Grab your bags now! We're going home and that's my final word!" Harry sighed, feeling quite drained from the day. His wounds were still bleeding underneath his white button-up shirt. He could feel the red liquid dripping slowly down his stomach. If he didn't take care of it soon, it would definitely be infected by tomorrow.

"No! I don't want to go! If I leave Nagini then she might get hurt later! I want to protect her!" Tom cried imploringly, placing himself between his father and the snake.

"This is a non-negotiable issue Tom!"

"No!" Tom shouted, his eyes squared rebelliously towards his father.

"Fine! You can stay here with it!" Harry roared. He turned his back on Tom and walked out the door, apparating home as soon as he got out.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Dear my lovely readers, school is already becoming harsh. I hate chemistry, I hate it with a thriving burning hate. hate. hate. God what the hell is a cyclopropanal supposed to look like! Anyways, the story is becoming awfully hard to write. This particular chapter was, in my opinion, the hardest to write. And I think i did terribly at it. I think it's rather disbelieving...but I will try to write more sensible ones later this week. Perhaps even rewrite this chapter for the good of my self esteem, but until then, please comment on it and if anything, tell me what to fix bcause I have no idea how to reroute this one!

Other than that, Enjoy and Review~

BC.

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Already the pain was reverberating through his stomach. Clutching the side of his belly, he watched as the red liquid seeped lightly onto his hands. Rolling his eyes at the blandness of the situation, he found it all too familiar.

Harry quietly stalked to the bathroom cabinet where he kept all his potions. Grabbing a tonic for pain and some bottles of blood replenishers, he settled himself near the kitchen table. Of course, he could already feel the guilt sinking through, he needed to hurry and apparate back. Unconsciously avoiding the tonic's prescription, he spilled it down his throat in one gulp. Lastly polishing off all the blood replenishers, he messily bandaged his chest with stretchy gauze. Oh yes, he felt like shit— Like he was run over by a car and left there to be run over some more.

He knew it was wrong to leave Tom there. He was wrong. And yes, he was going to immediately apparate back to get Tom. After that, he assumed would be followed by some subsequent pitiful groveling on his part and perhaps—if he was lucky— he would be able to influence his son to get another pet. Doubtful, but that was all he had in mind at the moment.

Unaware of the lulling, drowsy fog overcoming his mind, he slowly yawned but didn't make to get up. He slowly blinked, heavy-eyed. Perhaps… he dazedly thought, he would give Tom just a few more minutes to think about his son's actions. The drowsiness overcame his mind in seconds. Placing down his glasses, he laid his body comfortably on the couch. Yes…just… a few minutes. And with that, he slowly closed his eyes in surrender to the alien sensation.

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Waking up with a rewarding yawn, he lazily stretched himself out. That was an incredibly delightful nap. Grabbing his glasses, he instinctively called out, "Tom!" Shortly after, when no reaction met his ears, a faint remembrance of earlier that day sparked into his head. Tom…and a green snake. Sudden realization tore through him and everything came rushing back. He flashed his dark brown orbs at the clock and gasped, leaping into a standing position. A cold daunting sensation shadowed him as he reached for his jacket before sprinting outside, into the night air.

Three hours. And it was raining. Merlin's beard! He had left Tom there for three hours! On the midst of shear bloody panic, he somehow managed to apparate to the closed school without getting splinched.

"Tom!" He shouted desperately, grasping the locked iron gates.

The rain poured in liters and lightning applauded the skies. It was Mother Nature's vindictive way of laughing at his slip-up. He would've chuckled at the thought, if it was any other time.

"Tom!" Harry cried once more, searching the outer courtyards and the fields. He circled the school twice and twice again, still finding no sign of where Tom could be. He didn't even know if his son was even anywhere near the school!

Alarm racked through his whole body. He ran through the rain, not wanting to think about it. Wherever Tom was, if he was attacked, or hurt, or kidnapped, it was again his fault. His stomach knotted and twisted and his heart burned with flustered nerves.

With a slight hesitance, he stalked away from the school and advanced towards the playground they always went too. An image of Tom's gleeful smile as his son played on the swing sets, flashed through his head. However, as he reached his hands in the direction of the pale blue swing set, Tom wasn't there. It was, like how he felt, empty. The first few drops of tears drew from his eyes. He let them freely stream down his face as he continued shouting Tom's name.

He went everywhere he could think of, even all the way to the Leaky Cauldron. But there was no Tom. He searched throughout the night, not bothered even the slightest at the coldness of his soaked jacket. Finally, as he walked home with his hopes to shambles, completely crushed inside and out, he peered depressingly at his porch…And there Tom was, shivering underneath the porch light with his knees drawn up to his chest, staring emotionlessly at the ground. His viper was coiled lightly around his neck, whispering quietly into his ear.

Harry gasped in surprise, before a gloomy expression donned his face. With mild uncertainty, he carefully treaded closer towards Tom, steadily watching as smoldering brown orbs flew towards him. The look in them was sharp, filling with recognition, then betrayal, then disdain, before reverting back to an empty nothingness. Harry rather preferred the anger rather then the unsettling blank expression. Feeling altogether miserable, he placed himself right in front of his son, both of them still dripping wet. He parted his lips, but couldn't sound out any of the words. Not like he knew what to say. 'Oh Tom, I'm sorry for leaving you for the last three hours. Interestingly, your father was stupid enough not to read the labels printed on the back of his tonic!' He pathetically shook his head.

Silence permeated the awkward atmosphere between father and son along with a general discomfort. The beat of the rain, which in the past comforted Harry, was becoming a harsh reminder that Tom was left in the rain, with only a blazer to keep him warm. Harry hovered nervously next to his son, under the porch, shielding himself from the rain. He was as speechless as he was ten minutes ago.

"I…" He gripped onto that word and finished, "I'm sorry."

Tom dryly nodded his head, never meeting Harry's eyes. Harry watched desperately for any reaction, but Tom's face stayed unresponsive. He hated that. He wanted the little boy to scream at him, hit him, anything! He'd gladly let him. But after ten minutes of the cool gaze, he concluded that whatever he had with Tom was now ruined.

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After that day, nothing seemed the same ever again.

As months went by, distinctive coldness replaced the loving warmth that used to be present in their home. Tom hardly spoke to him anymore and chose to avoid him at every possible chance. The little boy had purposely selected his own room which was located to the far right side of their house, opposite of Harry's, and moved out all his clothes and belongings from his Harry's room. When Harry inquired to why, he thoroughly explained that as a growing boy he would need his own space and that it was inconvenient to share his father's.

No more morning wake up calls, Harry had to purchase an alarm clock. Half the time, it didn't work.

Tom systematically created his own schedule to completely evade contact with his father. Every morning he would wake up at an earlier time for school, officially dodging Harry on weekdays. And on weekends, he would do his homework and take every chance he got to get out of the house with Nagini.

Harry noticed, of course, as he laid awake the first few months, incapable of sleeping without Tom. He was so familiar with the sensation of hugging Tom while sleeping that his body couldn't cope resting without the little boy. He continued tossing and turning for hours on end and waking up feeling as bad as he looked. Harry did his best to press Tom for a conversation now and then, but the little boy hardly took it to kind. Tom responded monotonously with one worded answers before making an excuse to go finish his homework. Eventually, Harry found it easier to accept his terms and wholly stopped.

It continued on through winter and spring.

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One day, somewhere in the middle of May, Harry came home early from his business trip to China. He tiredly stepped through the door, expecting Tom to still be at school. Hanging his coat up, he proceeded to the kitchen to make himself some tea. He turned on the kettle and leaned against the wooden countertop, lifting his head back to stare at the white ceiling.

For the last couple of weeks, he had completely drowned into his work. Just enough to keep him busy. Through the total of five months, he had traveled to Italy, China, Egypt, India, and perhaps the whole of Europe in search of whatever treasure Gringotts commanded him to find. However, in the span of those five months, he had found himself dearly missing his beloved Tom, although the lad still refused to talk to him. He sent a letter to Gringotts requesting a prolonged vacation and was quickly met back by unbinding acceptance.

The afternoon sun covered him warmly.

His expression grew sour and he quietly sighed to himself, nothing was going right anymore. His frustrated mind screamed in contempt and he felt like turning this whole kitchen upside down.

A small hiss from the corner caught his attention. The slithering viper instantly revealed itself and glided out from its spot. He glowered at it. The snake didn't even know how much damage it had caused. Maybe he could kill it without Tom ever knowing, he lightly considered.

'It's you.' Harry spitefully sneered.

'Yes. Tom had forgotten me today.' She stated, gazing at him in interest.

'Well frankly your presence is not wanted here either.' He snidely stated, standing up to turn off the hissing kettle.

'My apologies…I was alarmed by another sudden presence in this house so I came to see if it was that old caretaker you left us. However, I was surprised to find you here. We have not seen you for weeks.' "We" probably meaning her and Tom. Harry raised an eyebrow at this, the boy had thought of him?

'I was away on business.' He exclaimed, pouring the hot water into his cup. Placing the kettle on the stove, he hesitantly asked, 'How is Tom?'

'He is well, perhaps a little concerted at times. His academic rigorousness strains him a little too much, but I do try to convince him to sleep more.'

Harry's gaze softened, it caught him a bit off guard at the sounded lisps. Nagini cared for Tom's wellbeing, maybe even more than him.

'You should know that Tom misses you.' She was blunt and her tone completely dry.

'Why would he miss me?' He sighed. 'He has you.' The tone came out with a hint of scorn.

'He does not express it in words, but I know how the young Prince thinks. His mind, is my mind.'

'He refuses to talk to me…'

'Because you sullied his trust.' The viper leveled itself on the opposite chair.

'I know what I did.' Harry glared before giving out a long sigh, 'H-how do I get him to talk to me again?' He dispassionately lowered his head. 'I…I want him to be able to come to me for help.'

'You'll just have to prove to him that you can once again be trusted.'

'But how? He hardly even looks at me anymore.' He sighed, taking a sip of his tea.

'You'll find a way.' She stated before slithering back to Tom's room.

He sat there and stared at the drifting clouds outside the window, what could he do? At the slightest show of wanting to talk Tom would already be heading the opposite direction of him. He rubbed his disheveled locks in frustration. It took him a few moments of thinking before he came up with an idea. He grinned to himself. It might have been just stupid enough to work.

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Early in the morning, Tom sauntered out of his room to make breakfast. As he entered the kitchen, he raised an eyebrow at the sight. The dining table was filled top to bottom with all assortments of breakfast: Pancakes, muffins, pies, scrambled eggs, and a few more varying items. Tom raised a brow at the cupcakes, its colorful icing formed into the words, 'I'm sorry Tom!'

He stood still for moment, searching the room for his father. After a few minutes of assessment, he calmed down and took a seat. He inhaled the lovely spiced scent of Harry's wonderful pumpkin pie. He couldn't remember the last time he had a taste of it. Digging his fork in, he greedily munched and sighed, lolling in taste-bud heaven. He was completely unaware that his father was hidden under his invisibility cloak, right across the table from Tom. Harry happily smiled at the sight of Tom enjoying his cooking. He had spent hours making everything.

Once Tom was done, he briefly glanced at the grandfather clock. A half hour until school starts. He washed his hands and sauntered back into the living room to grab his bag. As he did so, he felt a heavier weight in his messenger bag. Calmly opening it, he rifled through his papers and books and saw a small lunch pack with his name on it. Again, under his name were the words, 'Forgive me?' that correlated with the first message. He narrowed his eyes and was about to scrunch it up, but paused. He sighed and squished it into his coat pockets. Harry gently smiled at this, wanting to gather his son into his arms.

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End file.
